


The Visitation

by maddienole



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Protectiveness, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddienole/pseuds/maddienole
Summary: "I'll see you again. I promise."Six months after the events of Chapter 16, Mando pays his son a visit.(feat. father/son bonding time and an amused yet slightly exasperated Luke Skywalker).
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Comments: 20
Kudos: 500





	The Visitation

**Author's Note:**

> So Chapter 16, huh? I'm still crying.

It was hot on this planet, _unbearably_ so. This was never a problem before - _the heat_ \- especially since Din made an effort to never stay at the same place for too long a time. Now, however, he didn’t seem to have a choice.

The clearing he sat in was open - _vulnerable_ \- it was uncomfortable a feeling. The children....no, _younglings_ …were they called? Must have been about twenty or thirty of them, standing in line like little soldiers. They would close their eyes and open them again, waving their hands about. Sometimes things would move - _small things_ \- pebbles or sticks, with enough luck they may even be able to levitate something larger. The Jedi Master would say things that Din didn’t care much to make out, he never particularly _liked_ their kind after all.

His focus lay elsewhere.

The child was small - _too_ small. He stood so much lower than the other younglings, coming up to only their knees. He forgets sometimes that the child - _his_ child, he likes to think - was older than all of them, Jedi Master included.

No, Grogu was not _his_. He did not belong to him in any way. It was unbecoming of a Mandolorian to form such attachments, he was told.

One of the younglings managed to lift a stone, a sturdy one by the looks of it. It was a larger female, possibly human, though it was hard to tell from the distance. The younglings came in all shapes and sizes - _and colors_ \- yet none seemed as small as his child. The female youngling was straining, jittery and trembling, and soon enough dropped the stone. Not on herself, mind you, but on the foot of the boy next to her - who proceeded to shriek.

The spell then broke - the giggles burst out, order became chaos. The Master Jedi spoke, voice firm but not uncompromising. And then the children soon dispersed, lesson ending.

 _Thank god_.

Did he mention it was hot outside?

He thought he’d have to fight the Jedi Master in order to see the child. It had been six months - _far_ too long for one so young to be separated as they were. He had grown.... _attached_ , as he was told time and time again. A fight wasn’t necessary in the end (he was hesitant to admit that his chances wouldn’t have been great regardless), especially against a Jedi. However, he must not interfere with the training, as difficult a task as that may be.

 _“Do Jedi’s not succumb to heat exhaustion?”_ Din wanted to ask.

He didn’t.

Lunch was plain at best - some soup-like substance that he was sure tasted as good as it looked. Some brown bread and....were those orbs? Blue and of a jello-like consistency. He had no intention of touching anything here. The child, however, had no such qualms. It still amazed him that a kid of his size was able to engorge himself with such an exorbitant amount of food and not gain an inch widthwise, perhaps his... _eccentricities_....whatever they were called, took too much energy that needed to be replenished.

The child cooed, popping an orb in its mouth and pressing itself against him. Were there things he was supposed to ask? Things that all parents asked when away from their children for long periods of time?

_“Are you eating enough?”_

_“Are they treating you well?”_

_“Did you make any friends?”_

The child made another noise - somewhere between a garble and a squeak - raising another of the blue orbs in his small, green hand.

_“Did you miss me?”_

The child looked at him, large eyes meeting Din’s own. He stuck the orb in his mouth, and after a second of concentration, took it back out again and instead thrust it in his direction. Another coo.

“You think I want that?” he asked, trying to hide the amusement in his voice. “It’s covered in slobber.”

The child made a face, almost as though he was affronted by the very notion that he would reject such a prized offering.

“Sorry, kid. I’ll eat back on the ship.”

Another noise. It was times like this that Din wished he could understand the nonsense that spewed from the child’s mouth. There were questions he wanted to know, questions he may never get answers to. He thinks sometimes of how things would have been different if he had taken him away, just the two of them. He shouldn’t get emotional about such things, especially about a child that he didn’t have a right to call his own. But part of him regrets leaving him in such an abrupt manner.

_What are they teaching him here?_

_Will he be safe?_

_Will he learn to kill?_

Grogu makes more incoherent noises, burying his face in Din’s chest armor as if it were anything resembling a comfortable resting spot. They would have to part soon, lunch was only an hour long. After that, more training. Din was not privy to their scheduling and it was not his right to ask. He considered himself lucky that he even got this short a time to spend with him. He wonders if they have time for play, for games and running around and being.... _well,_ children.

He was a child once. He had friends and a mother and father. He would go out and laugh and throw things and tease. He....misses it, more so than he would ever admit to any living soul.

“Are you happy?” he asks, knowing that he wouldn’t get a response. The child blinks at him, eyebrows furrowed as if to say, _“what is fun?”_

Din then wonders if this child has ever _had_ fun - ever had the chance just to be a child, running with his own kind. It hurts him to think about as Grogu proceeds to grab at his hands.

“I’m not holding anything of interest, I promise.”

The child gives what could only be described as a frown, but says nothing.

He sighs.

“Yeah, me too kid.”

Whatever brief silence they were afforded did not last long. The sound of stomping feet and talking and whatever other noises children made soon came into range. He turns and looks at them, all clustered together in the clearing and trying to levitate.... _things._

Din holds onto the child just a bit tighter.

 _It’s too soon_ , he thinks.

_Not enough time._

It would _never_ be enough time, would it?

“You care for him.”

The voice comes from nowhere. Din blinks, unused to being taken by surprise. The Jedi Master stands before him - what was he called again? Sky.... _something_. Did it matter?

He draws the child closer to him.

“Is that a question?”

The Jedi raises an eyebrow. He’s not terribly old, probably younger than Din was. But it was his eyes....they were the eyes of someone who had seen too much. He wonders what exactly it was that this Jedi has witnessed - quite paradoxical, indeed.

He bends down, eyes flicking briefly towards the child, then back up again. Something passes through his gaze that Din can’t quite comprehend.

“I have only seen one other of his kind before,” he starts softly, voice not quite matching the fire in his eyes. The child twitches in his grasp, blinking curiously at the Jedi Master. A moment passes, then another, then the Jedi does something quite unexpected.

He smiles.

It’s....strange, though not unwelcome. Din shifts uncomfortably as the child gurgles.

“So you _have_ heard of Master Yoda, then?” the Jedi questions, quirking an eyebrow.

“You understand him? Is this another one of those.... _what did Ashoka call it?_....force things?”

“We can communicate, yes.”

Grogu coos again, squirming on his lap.

“What’s he saying now?”

The Jedi lets out a soft chuckle.

“He misses you.”

_Does he?_

The child gazes at him, eyes wide. He cocks his head.

_I....miss you too._

He doesn’t say it.

He....wants to.

“Who is this Yoda?” he finally asks, clearing his throat. “Is he of Grogu’s kind?”

“He _was_.”

“Dead?”

“To put it lightly, yes.”

“.....killed?”

“Old age.”

Grogu continues to make noise, nearly slipping from his grasp.

“Close,” the Jedi responds amusedly. “Nine-hundred.”

 _Nine-hundred what?_ _Damn Jedi._

He was about to question what exactly they were talking about before being interrupted by another voice. A _younger_ voice.

“Are we going to _start_ , yet?”

A boy - _no more than three or four_ \- stands at the entrance of the hut, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, as if trying to display some level of intimidation.

It didn’t work.

The Jedi glances up, face impassive.

“Remember what we have discussed about patience?”

“I’m _sick_ of being patient,” the boy whines, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

_Aren’t we all?_

The Jedi sighs, rising up to his feet. He walks over to the boy, saying things that Din couldn’t quite make out. The boy glares but doesn’t argue, soon leaving the den in a huff.

The child giggles.

“You wouldn’t think it funny if you were the one doing the training, now would you?” the Jedi says lightly. There was no animosity in his voice, but no sympathy either. Exhaustion, perhaps, though he was good at hiding the fact.

“It _is_ time for you to go,” the Jedi continues, eyeing Grogu.

Din nods, sorrow grabbing at his heart. He doesn’t want to leave the child here with...with these _people_. Grogu turns his face away, grabbing at his chest plate.

“Hey,” Din whispers, hopefully outside the Jedi’s hearing range. “Last time we parted, I told you I would come back, right? And I _kept_ that promise. I’ll continue to keep it. _Always_.”

The child stares, if only briefly. Were his eyes always this big? The hand gripping his heart squeezes, and it suddenly felt hard to breathe. Grogu then nods, gripping - _or trying to_ \- his hand, and finally making his way over to the Jedi Master. “Yoda was the greatest Jedi I have ever had the pleasure of knowing,” he says. “He has trained me as I will train you.”

Just the thought of his child in battle....the possibility he may get hurt or killed...was this really the right choice? Or would he be wrong in keeping him from his kind?

_That is the choice that every parent has to make, isn’t it?_

He watches them leave, the other younglings squealing at the sight of their master’s approach.

“Wait!” Din calls out.

The Jedi turns, eyebrows furrowed.

“He....likes frogs...” he sputters. “To eat, I mean. Just so you know.”

“I’ll....keep it in mind.”

_Sure you will._

He continues to watch, just for the next couple of minutes. He _needs_ to go. He needs....what does he need again? Nobody said it was going to be this _hard_.

Din sighs, finally starting his journey back to the ship. He _will_ visit again – nothing else in the world mattered more than seeing his child.

But for now, there was work to be done.


End file.
